


Those Hands

by tatteredspider



Series: Sparky and The Bull [24]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 30 day rp challenge, Control, F/M, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 12:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatteredspider/pseuds/tatteredspider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TW! There's a bit of breath play in this and some people are triggered by that so fair warning. It's nothing major, nobody passes out or anything but it's there, so here you go.</p>
<p>Day 25: Describe your character's hands. Are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby?</p>
<p>This one is short again but one of these days I'll make a longer one, I promise! :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Those Hands

**Author's Note:**

> TW! There's a bit of breath play in this and some people are triggered by that so fair warning. It's nothing major, nobody passes out or anything but it's there, so here you go.
> 
> Day 25: Describe your character's hands. Are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby?
> 
> This one is short again but one of these days I'll make a longer one, I promise! :)

The moment his fingers laced around her tender throat, she relaxed into his grip. She trusted him, completely, not to hurt her and it was heady stuff. A great responsibility. She was panting slightly, eyes half-lidded and dark with lust. Heady stuff indeed.

He looked down at his hand, curled tenderly across her creamy white skin. His fingers were dark there, thick and calloused. His grip tightened ever so slightly and she gasped. He could smell her arousal and it made him tighten just a little bit more.

She reached up to place a hand lightly to his wrist. _No more_ she was saying. _No tighter_. He would respect that, because that was what this was. An excercise in trust and respect. 

Her fingers at his wrist were so light. Long compared to other humans, but so small against his girth. They were the hands of an artist, this and smooth, except for the pads where her staff rubbed as she fought. Those hands held the fate of the world in their palm. As well as his. And he would treat them right.

 


End file.
